


With a Heavy Heart

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Set in Storybrooke, Canon Divergent [14]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: On the anniversary of her father’s death, Regina is overwhelmed by guilt and sadness. Robin is there to comfort her.





	With a Heavy Heart

He finds her in the vault, sitting on the stone bench with her elbows resting on her knees. Her shoulders are slumped forward as if in a state of defeat and his heart breaks for her. He takes a step in and she turns at the sound of his footsteps. Her eyes are red and swollen. Tears have stained her cheeks and remain welled in her eyes, threatening to fall at any second. For a moment, her eyes meet his and he understands what it means to be tragically beautiful.

The moment is all too quick and she turns away from him. He’s not sure if she wants him there, but he can’t leave her alone like this. So, he sits down beside her and slides his arm around her, smiling sadly as her head falls onto his shoulder and she begins to cry. He holds her closer and drops a comforting kiss just above her temple, wishing that he could make all of her pain—the guilt and shame, the heartache and regret—go away.

But he knows that he can’t; all he can do is hold her and try to comfort her.       

“Why did you come here?” She asks in a small, almost distant voice.

“I didn’t want you to be alone—not if you didn’t want to be,” he tells her gently, as his fingers comb through her hair. “Not today.”

She picks up her head and looks at him, her lips purse. “You…know what today is?”

He nods, “It took me awhile to figure it out, but eventually, I did.”

Again, she looks away and this time, she pushes herself away from him. “So, you know that today is the anniversary of the day that I murdered my father.”

“Regina…”

 

“I murdered him,” she repeats as she looks back at him. She says it so matter-of-factly that it’s almost a surprise when her face crumbles. “Every time I close my eyes I see his face just before I did it and I hear him pleading—telling me I don’t have to do it, that there’s another way. And then I see myself do it—I watch as I reach in and tear out his heart, watch as I turn it to ash.” Her jaw tightens and trembles, as she continues. “Just like I did to countless others—people I never even knew, people I don’t even remember.”

He takes a breath and then slides closer to her, “You were in a lot of pain, Regina.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” she says sharply. Her voice is filled with self-loathing.

“I didn’t say that it did.” He watches as her eyes pinch closed, forcing her tears to flee down her cheeks. His heart aches for her. With a heavy sigh, she looks over at him, staring at him for a moment, searching his face and he wonders what she’s thinking. Tentatively, he reaches out and places a comforting hand on her back. “All I’m saying is that you suffered years and years of pain and loss. You were lonely and you lashed out. As misguided as it was, you were just trying to stop from hurting.”

She offers a meek nod and doesn’t say anything. On most days, she’s able to keep up the façade, to focus on the good in her life, the positive changes she’s made and move forward, taking one day at a time and taking it in stride. She carries herself with such poise and an air of confidence that it’s easy to forget that beneath it all is the love-starved little girl, who just wants to be happy.

Every now and then, she allows him to can see beneath the carefully crafted mask she wears. He sees the cracks, the uncertainty, and the doubt. Day in and day out, he watches how she fights against her past, how she strives to make amends, and how she battles the darkness. And it’s admirable.

He knows that it’s a constant struggle and though she doesn’t say it, she often feels as though she’s falling short, that it’s a debt she’ll never pay off. He wishes more than anything that when she looked in the mirror, she would see the incredible, strong, loving and resilient woman that sees every time he looks at her.

“It was selfish.”

“It was self-perseverance,” he counters.

She turns to look at him and again her eyes search his. “How is it that no matter what terrible thing I’ve done, you manage to make it seem…not nearly as terrible, and certainly not evil.”

“Because I don’t believe you’ve ever truly been evil.” Her eyebrow arches in surprise.  She scoffs and he smiles gently. He’s not in denial; he knows who she used to be. But he doesn’t think in black and white–nothing is purely good and nothing is purely evil. It’s much more complex than that. “I’m not saying that you haven’t done terrible things. I’m not saying the things you did weren’t evil. But, I think you were just hiding behind the expectation of your moniker. That was never really you.” He pauses for a moment. “Let me ask you something…the night your father died…”

“The night I killed him,” she corrects.

“How did you feel that night? After you did it…”

She considers the question, and inhales a sharp breath. She closes her eyes and the pain in her face is evident. “I felt like I wanted to rip out my own heart and crush it,” she admits quietly, exhaling.

“Exactly.” Opening her eyes, she turns to look at him. “If you were truly evil, you wouldn’t have felt that way.” He takes her hand and gives it a soft squeeze. “Even at your absolute worst, you there was still a little bit of good in you. And even though you so rarely experienced it, you still had the ability to love.”

She slides closer to him and turns into his side, letting him hold her. He kisses the top of her head and he folds his arms around her. He smiles sadly as she cuddles into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he’s glad that she’s allowing him to comfort her instead of closing him out. There aren’t many she allows to see her at her weak points.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into his shoulder. “Thank you for being here.”

He peers down at her, “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

“It can’t be easy.”

“On the contrary,” he tells her in earnest. “Loving you is one of the easiest, most natural things I’ve ever done.” Her eyes open and turn upward to look at him. She makes no effort to move. She looks skeptical, yet endearing and he can’t help but smile at her. Again, kisses the top of her head. “When I first met you—well, the second first time—I told you that I thought you bold and audacious, but not evil. And since then, I’ve come to realize you are also strong and independent, braver than anyone I’ve ever met; you’re giving and when you decide that you love someone, there isn’t anything you won’t do for them; you’ve raised your son to be an outstanding young man, driven by conviction and loyal to those he loves—which just proves what a wonderful mother you are; and most importantly, you are the type of person who owns up to her mistakes. You don’t hide behind them. You own them and do better the next time. You’re not perfect, Regina, but you’re not evil. And you never truly have been.“ He pauses when he feels her warm tears through his shirt, and he holds her a little tighter as he continues, “You’ve made some horrible mistakes in the past, but they’re in the past now. And you’ve paid the price of them.”

She pulls back a little and lifts her head to look at him. Her eyes are still teary and sad. Reaching out, he wipes away her tears with his thumb. She smiles in spite of herself, and he smiles, too.

“The worst part of it is, if I didn’t do it, I’d be absolutely miserable,” she says reflectively. “We wouldn’t be sitting here together. I wouldn’t have Henry. I wouldn’t have…a life.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “I sacrificed him…entirely for myself.”

He exhales a long breath and considers her words carefully. “Are you happy, Regina?”

Her eyes meet his and she offers him a small smile, “On most days, I am.”

He nods and thinks of his own son and without question he would gladly lay down his life for his son’s happiness, and there isn’t anything Roland could do that he wouldn’t forgive. “I never knew your father,” he begins, “But regardless of how things ended between the two of you or why they ended, I think he would have been proud of the woman you’ve become.” Slowly, he rubs his hand over her back. “I know I am.”

“I wish he could be here to see it, to see how much I’ve changed,” she murmurs softly, again resting her head on his shoulder. “I miss him.”

Robin sighs and lays his head atop hers, as he pulls her closer. There isn’t much else he can say. He can’t change the past or change the way she feels, and he can’t take away her pain. The only thing he can do is be there for her when she needs him and hope she can find comfort in his love.


End file.
